The Auror
by Moonlit Sunshine
Summary: Severus was forced into exile from the Wizarding World after the Battle of Hogwarts. An Auror has to check on him now and then. This particular Auror just won't leave him alone. The strange thing is, Severus doesn't mind it anymore. Two-shot. Absolutely no slash, only parental affection. Fluff warning.


_**A/N: In a Severitus-universe where HBP and DH happened with Snape's and Harry's mentoring relationship in place. Voldemort was defeated. Severus didn't die.**_

 _ **Oh, and not slash. Strictly parental love, though I like to write it more intensely than most.**_

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Harry knocks, his heart thudding loudly in his throat. He is standing before a small, well-kept house tucked away in a remote location in Wizarding Britain. The door opens of its own accord. Already feeling like an intruder, he steps in, trying to convince himself that it isn't like that anymore—that _they_ aren't like that anymore, but it isn't really working right now. It hasn't worked for weeks.

He stops after a few steps into the living room. Snape is standing right there, arms folded and customary black robes swirling forbiddingly around him. For a moment, it feels like they are back in Hogwarts, and Harry wants to laugh at Snape's attempt to intimidate him. Something in the man's stiff posture stops him.

And that's when the doubts come flooding back. Why is he here? Why is he doing this? Why did he use every bit of leverage at his disposal as Voldemort's defeater and the Boy-Who-Lived, just to see _Snape_? Snape, who pushed him away after the battle, telling him to go live his life and let Snape live his own?

"What are you waiting for, _Auror_ Potter?" The all-too-familiar sneer is back in Snape's voice and face, and Harry's heart sinks. "A welcoming committee?"

He silently answers his own question as he stands there in silent dismay. _Because I wanted to see if there's anything left of the spy who found time to mentor me in the darkest part of the war. I just wanted to know if it was all just for Lily and the cause she believed in. I wanted to know if he_ cares _for me—not as a warrior, but for Just Harry._

 _If he doesn't—_ Harry feels nauseous at the thought— _I'll have to compliment him on his acting skills_. _He sure convinced me._

-o-

He truly thought he had burnt his bridges. Severus didn't know then what exactly turned his stomach at the sight of Potter surrounded by a cheering crowd just after the Dark Lord had fallen.

Now he knows. He watched the numerous survivors of the Battle waiting to speak to their saviour, and thought— _he doesn't need me anymore_. _Get out of his life, Severus Snape, before you ruin it like you do everything else._ The thought burned worse than punishment by the Dark Mark, but he acted on it immediately. He spat venom at Potter—he still doesn't remember exactly what he said—and fled the place. The Ministry tracked him down, of course, but Kingsley managed to negotiate a deal that allowed Severus to stay in exile. With one condition (to please those still calling for the blood of Voldemort's right hand)—an Auror would have to come check on him periodically. And so it had been, for two years.

He should have known, he thinks, trying not to look at the green eyes that always undid him. He should have known that Potter would not give up so easily.

"Good morning, Professor," the boy says. Severus is pleased to hear the nervousness in his voice. He can exploit that.

He would have snapped at Potter that he isn't his Professor anymore, but he prefers the distance the title brings. "I believe, Mr Potter, that your duties were fulfilled the moment you walked through that door and saw that I was here," he says, ignoring the hesitant greeting. "Kindly show yourself out." He looks away from the betrayal on the boy's face. Really, he has no idea how the boy managed to learn Occlumency—he's still transparent as crystal.

 _He learned Occlumency because he learned to trust you,_ his conscience reminds him. His conscience has grown stronger since Potter's sixth year; it keeps popping up most inconveniently. He mentally snarls at him to shut up.

"Severus, please."

"Auror Potter," Severus responds coolly, stressing the title, "I believe it is a misuse of your authority to remain in my home after your duties are performed."

"Stop it!" Potter shouts. He's finally snapped. "Stop this charade! And while you're at it, make up your mind about whether you hate me or love me, because I won't accept cold formality!"

Severus internally winces at the l-word that he does not often allow inside his own mind, not even in connection to Lily. Did he really tell the boy he loved him? Did he really whisper it to him that one night after the boy had snuck into _Severus's_ room to comfort _him_ after a nightmare in which the Dark Lord had tortured him, Severus, into betraying Ha—Potter? He's forgotten—well, he's tried to. It was nothing more than momentary madness brought on by an Overdose of Harry Potter, he tells himself firmly. He hides all this and only shows increasing anger on his face.

"I see that victory has not helped your attitude," he says softly. "Proudly following in your father's footsteps, Potter?" Really, in the dim light that he prefers indoors, it's all too easy to imagine Potter Senior in place of his slightly more tolerable son. It makes his job easier.

"If I am, are you planning to kill Ginny, me, and our firstborn child in a few years?"

Severus reels in shock and nearly took a step back. He really must stop underestimating Harry—ugh, Potter. When pushed, the boy no longer reacts like a child still in school. Also, Potter has more power to harm him with words. To allude to his past betrayal of Lily, though… It makes Severus begin to calculate the pros and cons of drawing a wand on an Auror.

"Severus." The boy is white now—in horror at what he has said, probably, Severus thinks clinically. Maybe he can use Potter's remorse to make him leave. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that…"

"Get out, Potter," Severus says, deciding on the latter course of action. "I've had enough of your to last me a lifetime. Do not show up on my doorstep again—Auror or not, I will not be responsible for my actions. Would you like to be the reason I end up in Azkaban?"

Potter's face crumples again. "Severus, what did I _do_? Why are you doing this? Why did you leave me after the Battle?"

 _Pathetic, snivelling child_ , Severus thinks, his skin crawling; and at the same time, _Harry, oh Harry_. There is no man, woman or child in the world so capable of yanking him in opposing directions and tearing him apart as Harry Potter. His greatest love and hatred are both bound up in this young man, and the conflict has only grown worse over the years. He turns away from Potter.

A hand grabs him by his robe and jerks him back around. Another hand has an iron grip on Severus's arm. "Look me in the eye," Potter growls. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want to see me again."

Well, that is easily done. Severus grabs the back of Potter's neck and roughly pulls him forward too—now their chests are nearly touching—and looks him full in the eyes, ignoring the stab of pain this causes him. "I—" Severus begins, and falters. He grits his teeth and tries again, "Get out—" But the flashing emerald eyes are boring a hole into him, and his breath hitches as he realises his mistake. He can read those eyes very easily—fear, hurt and anger all chase each other in their swirling depths, but confidence is now creeping back. There is now a small smile showing in them.

Severus clenches his jaw again. He has lied through his teeth—to the Dark Lord, no less. And he's not even lying now; he's trying to tell Potter the truth! It is ludicrous that Those Eyes should hold such power over him—

"Severus?" the boy (he is a man now, but Severus can't think of him as such) says hopefully.

Severus pushes him away and steps back, breathing hard. "You never came," he says harshly.

"Er…" the boy says eloquently, thrown by the sudden switch of topics.

"It's been _two years_ , Potter—you never came! Why now? Is there someone you need killed?"

Harry, clever boy, ignores the last part. Not surprising; within a few months of close association with him, Potter became an expert at gleaning the real meaning behind Severus's angry words and hidden gestures. It was very convenient and very annoying. "You told me to get out of your life!" Potter protests.

 _And you believed me?_ But he cannot say that. He's said too much already, and his skin is crawling again—with shame, this time. He's about to retreat to his laboratory downstairs, when…

"I've missed you _so much_ ," the boy says hoarsely. "You disappeared—and every time I wanted to browbeat someone in the Ministry into telling me where you were, I'd hear your voice in my head, ripping into me for misusing my influence." Har— _Potter_ ran his fingers through his hair, making them stick up more. The sight sends a thrill of nostalgia into Severus's bones. He secretly loved the child's mess of hair (it seems so long ago now)—perfect for sinking fingers into and harassing the child about… He shakes himself, and sternly tells himself that hair only makes him shiver at the similarity to one James Potter. "But I wanted to find you, Sev, I was just…" His voice cracks, but he soldiers on. "… _afraid_ you'd turn me away. Ron's furious with you for abandoning me, by the way, and Hermione wouldn't stop nagging me about coming after you no matter what you said…"

Severus wants to run from this characteristically rambling _mea_ _culpa_. The boy is obviously trampling on his own pride, laying bare his heart for Severus to see. It would be so easy to break him now; to destroy the hope burgeoning in the brilliant green eyes.

Severus secretly draws his wand and silently casts a spell on the cauldron one floor below them. Two seconds later, an explosion shakes the small house. He mutters an oath and hurries downstairs, shouting at the boy to stay put (or leave) if he knows what's good for him. He rushes into the laboratory and shuts himself in, waving his wand at the smoke to clear it. It was an excellent ploy to escape the boy, but he knows it is only temporary. Short of bodily throwing Po— _Harry_ out, he is stuck with him until he comes up with a way to satisfy—or break—him.

He bends over a counter, panting as though he'd just fought several Death Eaters.

 _What now?_

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 ** _A/N: Review, please!_**


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